


Private Moments

by alamble



Series: Private Moments [3]
Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: AU, Established Relationship, F/M, Family, Fluff, Friendship, Future Fic, Kidfic, Vignettes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-11-30 06:05:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,761
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11457528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alamble/pseuds/alamble
Summary: A series of vignettes of just what it says on the tin - private moments between Wyatt and Lucy, with occasional appearances from friends and family.Chapter five: The Time Team celebrates the holidays, and Wyatt has his Best.Christmas.Ever.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally going to be part of one of those "Five times x happened and one time it didn't" setups, but I couldn't quite make it work and I liked this one too much to hold it back. Instead, this will be a series of vignettes, set in the same continuity as my other two stories, Roommates and Someday (But Not Today). This should stand alone well enough that if you haven't read either of those stories, you shouldn't be lost. But I'd love it if you read them anyway. :)

_Sunday, March 31, 2019_

 

Lucy steps out on the front landing of the house, keeping an eye on Rufus and Jiya as they stumble, giggling, down the path towards their car in the driveway. The foursome had spent most of the day celebrating Wyatt's 35th birthday a day early, and while Rufus was more than a little bit tipsy, Jiya had assured Lucy that she was perfectly sober and would get them home safely.

“Text me when you get home!” she shouts as Jiya climbs into the driver's seat, earning a wave in acknowledgment as they pulled away. As soon as they disappeared from sight, Lucy ducks back inside, slumping against the closed door.

“I thought they'd never leave.”

Wyatt eyes her from the dining room, where he was clearing away the last of their dinner dishes. “Do I have to remind you that it was your idea to have them over for my birthday in the first place? You know I would have been just fine with a quiet celebration tomorrow night, just the two of us.”

She follows him to the kitchen, where he is stacking dishes in the sink. “I know. Thank you for humoring me,” she replies as she sneaks up behind him, wrapping her arms around his middle and resting her cheek against his back.

Wyatt turns around, studying her quizzically. “Are you feeling okay?” he asks hesitantly. “You were playing footsie with me all through dinner, and I think you accidentally kicked Rufus in the shins a couple of times. Not that he necessarily would have noticed after his third beer.”

Lucy smiles coquettishly, reaching for his hand as she tugs him out of the kitchen and into their living room, where she unceremoniously tosses him onto their overstuffed couch, climbing into his lap. Wyatt has to fight hard to contain his amusement, as her five months' pregnant belly makes her movements a little awkward, to say the least.

“You think this is funny, hmm?” she purrs in between kisses while sifting her fingers through his hair. “My hormones have been going haywire all afternoon. All I could think about during dinner was how soon we could send Rufus and Jiya home so we could finally have some privacy and I could have my way with you. If I'd known that switch was going to flip on today of all days, I would have canceled, and we could have had that private celebration you were talking about.” Lucy abandons her attempts to muss up his hair, moving on to his blue button-down shirt, which she was determined to remove with all due haste.

Wyatt was a tiny bit alarmed at her intensity. Her first trimester and the first few weeks of her second had been long stretches of morning sickness alternating with exhaustion; he remembered reading about some women experiencing increased sex drive after the morning sickness abated, but he'd never expected it to hit this suddenly. She's already undone half his buttons by the time he drags his head out of the clouds to pry her hands from his shirt.

“I think this will be a lot more fun, not to mention way more comfortable for you, if we take this upstairs. What do you say?”

Lucy nips at his bottom lip one last time before easing off the couch. “I'm going to change into something a little more comfortable while you finish up down here. Don't keep me waiting too long though, I might fall asleep.” She winks flirtatiously as she turns to climb the stairs to their bedroom.

Wyatt finishes cleaning up the kitchen in record time, stopping just long enough to top off Sadie's water dish before taking the stairs two at a time to the master bedroom. All was quiet, but as he pokes his head in the doorway, he sees Lucy clad in her favorite new pajamas, propped up by a mountain of pillows and absentmindedly stroking her belly while balancing a book on her lap.

He stealthily crawls across the bed, reaching up to pluck what he liked to call her “nerd” glasses off her face, carefully folding them up and setting them on her nightstand. Relieved of her reading glasses, she peers up at him owlishly, marking the page in her book with her index finger.

“Hey there, beautiful. You decided to abandon my charms for a book?” he teases in an exaggerated version of his Texas drawl. Almost 20 years of living on the West Coast and traveling the globe both in the present and the past had flattened his accent, but after learning how much Lucy liked it, he drags it back out every now and again; especially when he's in the doghouse and needs to charm his way back into her good graces.

She waves the cover in his face so he could see what it is – _The Big Book of Baby Names. “_ Just killing time until you decided to re-join me.” She sets the book on the nightstand next to her glasses, feeling the mattress dip as Wyatt settles in beside her. She shifts around and situates herself back into his lap, reaching for the remaining buttons on his shirt. “Where was I? Ah yes, much better,” she murmurs approvingly as she tugs the shirt off his shoulders and tosses it to the floor. Lucy reaches up to cup his face, holding him firmly in place as she peppers him with kisses, while slowly, deliberately rocking in his lap. 

He's about to tug her soft green and black lace camisole up and off her, when she flinches as though she's been slapped, digging her nails into his neck and biting hard on his bottom lip.

“Oh!” she squeaks in surprise, just as he mutters “Ouch.”

She stills for a moment, realizing that she's left indentations just below his right cheek. She gently tries to smooth out the marks on his skin, whispering apologetically, “Wyatt, I'm so sorry, that just startled me, are you okay?”

Wyatt grips her hand, searching her face for any indications of pain or discomfort. Seeing only surprise and a faint hint of excitement on her face, he's confused. “What startled you? Is everything all right?”

Her face falls momentarily. “You didn't feel that?”

“Feel what?” he asks, puzzled by her disappointment. She reaches around to the hand pressed against her lower back, scooting back a little to give herself more room. She bites her lower lip in concentration as she cups his hand under hers, shifting along her belly, stopping just above her right hip. 

“There. Do you feel that?” she asks hopefully.

Wyatt stares at their joined hands, now understanding what had distracted her. He breaks out into what he's certain is a manic grin as he registers tiny flutters under his palm. “Oh. Oh, wow. It's faint, but,” he pauses to collect himself, the awe and wonder threatening to render him silent, “that's our little guy?”

“Or girl,” she replies pointedly, as she presses the heel of his hand more firmly onto her belly. The baby's movements had steadily started growing more distinct over the past two weeks, but not to the point where she was certain Wyatt would be able to feel anything. At least not until tonight.

Wyatt carefully switches their positions, laying her back down against the mountain of pillows as he scoots down to level with her belly, propping himself up on one arm. He tugs her cami just above the swell of her belly, gently tracing random patterns along her skin, making Lucy giggle.

“Wyatt, stop, that tickles.”

He presses his lips gently against her skin, right near the spot where the baby had been kicking moments earlier. “Hi there, little one,” he whispers reverently, “it's Daddy.” He swallows thickly, blinking back the tears threatening to stream down his face as he feels Lucy tenderly stroking the back of his neck. “Whatcha doing in there? Practicing soccer kicks? Maybe some gymnastics? You've been keeping Mommy awake an awful lot the last few weeks. Mommies need their rest, you know,” he looks up to see Lucy grinning at him lovingly, and winks at her.

“Baby's being awfully squirmy tonight. I think she likes hearing her Daddy's voice. Keep talking,” she instructs as she settles into a more comfortable position, letting her eyes flutter closed as she relaxes. 

She drifts off to sleep with Wyatt's whiskey-smooth baritone vibrating against her belly, and it vaguely registers that he's re-telling the story of their meeting with the infamous Ian Fleming. 

She wakes briefly a couple of hours later to realize that they're both tucked up under the covers, and Wyatt has changed into pajama pants. She peers over his right shoulder to check the time, noting that it is past midnight. Even though West Texas is two hours ahead of San Francisco, it's now officially April 1 where they are, and she wants to be the first to acknowledge it.

She presses a kiss to his forehead and settles deeper into his embrace as his arms instinctively tighten around her in his sleep.

“Happy Birthday, Wyatt. We love you.”


	2. The Waiting is the Hardest Part

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2: A (very special) Day in the Life.

_July 29, 2019, 0545 hours_

Wyatt was jarred awake by noise carrying over the baby monitor. Reaching over to Lucy's side of the bed, he discovered it was currently unoccupied and her pillow was cool to the touch. His alarm was supposed to go off in 15 minutes anyway, so he rolled out of bed, shut off the alarm and quietly headed to the kitchen to start breakfast.

20 minutes later, with a pot of coffee brewing for himself, and tea steeping for Lucy, he set out ingredients for scrambled eggs and toast, before heading back upstairs in search of his wife. As he peered into the nursery, he fought hard to stifle a laugh. Lucy was a flurry of motion flitting from task to task, seemingly trying to accomplish as many things as possible at once. _Nesting_ , the parenting books called it; that time-honored instinct to make sure everything is ready before a baby arrives to turn life upside-down.

Wyatt crept up stealthily behind Lucy, reaching around to gently pry a small brown teddy bear out of her hand and place it back in its spot on the bookshelf.

“Is Radar helping you organize the books again?” he teased as he gently nuzzled the crook of her neck.

She laughed softly, leaning back into his embrace to give him better access. “I decided to alphabetize by author after all. I think we have every Dr. Seuss and Shel Silverstein book ever written.”

“How did we end up with three copies of _Where the Sidewalk Ends_ , anyway?”

“You told anyone and everyone that it was your favorite book when you were little!”

“I know, but I didn't expect everyone to remember that!”

Lucy chuckled as Wyatt carefully spun her around to face him, enveloping her in his arms as best he could. They stood there quietly, enjoying the peace. “Eight days,” Wyatt murmured as he kissed her forehead, “eight days and everything changes.”

Lucy pressed her cheek to his chest, grimacing. “About that – oh, oh, ohhhhhhhhh” she hissed as she was gripped by a contraction. Wyatt automatically started massaging her lower back, and as soon as her breathing evened out, he stepped back so they were face-to-face.

“Was that your first contraction?”

“Second,” she admitted sheepishly. “The first one was about 20 minutes ago.”

“This is the real deal, isn't it? Not Braxton-Hicks again?”

Lucy pursed her lips and nodded. “Not this time. Dr. Gibson said I'd know the difference, and that was definitely different. And before you ask, yes, I already called her office and left a message with her answering service. She doesn't get in until 8:30.”

“Do you want me to work from home today? My calendar is open and I can do my weekly call with the Pentagon from here.”

Lucy pinned him with a skeptical stare. “And have you hovering all day? No, honey, I love you for even asking, but you know as well as I do that you'd end up driving us both crazy. You'll be more productive at the office.”

Wyatt cupped her face, searching for any signs of stress or anxiety in her eyes. Satisfied that Lucy was okay with him going in to work, he turned to tug her downstairs to the kitchen. “C'mon, let's get some breakfast in you. I have feeling today is going to be a very long day.”

 

_1315 hours, Mason Industries:_

Wyatt returned to his office from grabbing a quick lunch at the Mason Industries canteen laden down with a bag full of granola bars, bottled water, Gatorade and fruit, courtesy of the MI catering staff. Everyone in the office had taken note of his state of mind as soon as he'd arrived that morning, and as word spread, his staff quickly sussed out the source of his lack of focus. He'd reluctantly left Lucy earlier that morning after extracting her promise that she would message him every hour, rest as much as possible, and call him immediately if anything major happened. Judging from the updates he'd been getting from her over the past five hours, she was clearly bored to tears.

0845:

**babydoll** : Dr. G says not to bother coming in until contractions are 10mins apart or my water breaks, whichever comes first

 

0930:

**babydoll** : the next time we have to go down to san diego, can we stop in LA on the way?

**reckless hothead** : you've been to LA a bunch of times. What do you want to do there that you haven't already done?

**babydoll** : I want to go on the Price is Right.

**reckless hothead** : okay, you are clearly bored if you are watching game shows

**babydoll** : can't focus enough to read anything. Lame daytime TV is my only option

 

1055:

**babydoll** : where did you put my phone charger? My phone is about to die

**reckless hothead** : it's on the desk in your office, charging your iPad

 

1130:

**babydoll** : your child is not being very cooperative, wyatt logan. Contractions have been stuck at 15 mins apart for two hours now

**reckless hothead** : good things come to those who wait, remember?

 

1215:

**reckless hothead** : did you have anything to eat yet?

**babydoll** : just ordered some lunch from uber eats. Should be here in ten

 

1330:

**reckless hothead** : I have to prep for my 1400 call with DoD. Going to be out of pocket for a little bit. You miss me?

**babydoll** : always. FYI, contractions are getting a little closer together, so don't go too far

**reckless hothead** : anything happens, call Lt. Anderson. She'll bail me out of the meeting

 

_1445 hours:_

Wyatt was logging out of his weekly video call with his superiors at the Pentagon when his assistant, Lieutenant Jennie Anderson, poked her head into the conference room.

“Sir, Dr. Preston's on the phone for you on line one,” she said with a knowing grin on her face.

Wyatt nodded in her general direction. “Thank you, Lieutenant, I'll take the call in here.” Looking around expectantly at his staffers still milling about, he pointed to the door. “Dismissed!” he barked sharply.

Once the room was clear, he took several deep breaths before picking up the phone, hoping he sounded calmer than he actually felt. “Lucy, what's your sitrep?”

Lucy huffed in response. “Well, hello to you too, Major Logan.” Although Wyatt was still officially active duty and had received a special promotion to commissioned officer after the Rittenhouse mission, jargon only worked its way into their conversations in the rare moments when she had to reach him at work. “My water broke ten minutes ago. Dr. Gibson's already at Stanford, and she's expecting us.”

“Do I have time to change into civvies first?”

“I told her we'd be there in a hour. Don't take too long, or I might leave without you,” she teased.

“Lucy Preston Logan, don't even joke about that! I love you, stay put, and I'll be home in twenty.”

Wyatt barreled out the door and into his office, almost colliding with Rufus and Jiya as he rushed around the room, gathering his things and barking out orders.

“Anderson! Clear out my calendar for the rest of the week, please! I'll be out of pocket for the next two days. “

Lt. Anderson appeared in the doorway, handing over the bag of snacks while simultaneously reaching for his laptop. “Don't worry, Major, we've got you covered. We re-worked your schedule a week ago. Go, before she leaves for the hospital without you.”

Wyatt sprinted toward the men's locker room to change clothes, Jiya's squeals and Rufus' mutterings “ _can't believe I lost the baby pool_ ”; _”I ran the statistical models twenty times”_ ; “ _she swore she'd go to her due date_ ” echoing down the hall in his wake.

 

_1900 hours, Stanford University Medical Center Labor & Delivery unit:_

“Is the book really that bad?” Lucy asked groggily from the bed in her birthing room, as Wyatt dropped the book he was trying - and failing - to read in his duffel bag.

“The book's not the problem. I'm the problem. This waiting is killing me,” Wyatt whined.

Lucy huffed bemusedly. “Killing you? I'm the one who had to lay around all morning waiting for this kiddo to decide to get a move on, you know.”

Wyatt ran his hand through his hair, leaving it sticking up in half a dozen different directions, before resting his head in his hands. “I just feel so helpless, Lucy, knowing you're in pain and that there's not a damn thing I can do about it.” He looked so miserable that Lucy was almost inclined to feel sorry for him. Almost.

Lucy slowly and gingerly eased forward, breathing heavily through her latest contraction as Wyatt scrambled to brace her with more pillows. Patting the space behind her on the bed, she gestured for him to sit while timing the contraction on her watch. Wyatt started massaging her lower back while she eased back into a normal breathing pattern, earning groans of appreciation.

“This is very helpful,” came her muffled voice from where she was resting her head between her knees. “Keep doing this and I will be a very happy woman.”

“I guess it's a good thing that real life isn't like all those silly romantic comedies, where there's a mad scramble to get to the hospital and the wife almost ends up giving birth in the car?”

“I still can't believe Denise and Michelle told that story at the baby shower. Who does that to a first-time pregnant woman?” Lucy asked indignantly.

Wyatt laughed as he leaned forward, moving to work out the knots in her shoulders. “You should have seen your face when Denise started talking about how she had to deliver their daughter on the shoulder of I-95. You turned about ten different shades of green.”

“I'm not sure I was as horrified as Rufus was when his mother regaled everyone with the story of almost giving birth to Kevin in the reception area of UC hospital. I got the impression he hadn't heard that tale before.”

“He hadn't. He came back with a bottle of whiskey after everyone left as an apology for freaking you out. We drank half of it before he started complaining that he was going to need something stronger, possibly even brain bleach.”

Lucy started laughing so hard tears were streaming down her face, and she almost didn't register the onset of another contraction. Wyatt leaned back into the pillows, letting her sink into his chest, clutching his hands tightly while she repeated her breathing exercises.

“They're getting closer,” he whispered matter-of-factly.

Lucy nodded in agreement. “Four minutes apart. They feel like they're getting more intense, too, but that could just be the spinal block wearing off.”

“I guess we keep waiting, then.”

 

_2130 hours:_

Wyatt gently adjusted Lucy's grip on his hand as they prepared for one last push. He'd forgotten to take off his wedding ring before they got to this last stage of labor, and he was pretty sure he was going to have a permanent dent in his ring finger, not to mention a couple of hairline fractures.

“You got this, Lucy,” he whispered encouragingly as she buckled down. Thirty seconds later, the howls of a baby crying filled the room, and Lucy sagged into his arms, totally spent.

“Congratulations!” Lucy's OB, Dr. Emily Gibson, exclaimed cheerily. “You have a little boy.” Settling the screaming infant on Lucy's belly, she walked Wyatt through the proess of cutting the umbilical cord before one of the L&D nurses came over to get the baby cleaned up.

“Don't worry, little man,” the nurse ( _her name is Nancy,_ Wyatt recalled) cooed, “we're just going to get you cleaned up and we'll give you right back to Mom and Dad.”

_Mom and Dad. Those are our names now,_ Wyatt thought to himself dreamily.

“Wyatt? Are you okay?”

He broke into a grin that could have lit up the entire room. “I am so much better than okay. I am in awe. You are amazing, and I love you so much.”

“The baby?” she asked, somewhat anxiously.

“He's perfect,” he replied reassuringly. “Ten little fingers and toes, and a rather impressive set of pipes that I am certain he gets from his mama.”

She smiled weakly as she sank back into the pillows. “Well, this amazing lady is tired. I'm just going to rest my eyes for a minute here.”

Wyatt wandered over to the bassinet, where the baby was still squalling his head off, though now he was at least cleaned up, diapered, and trying to knock the cute little knit cap off his head with all his flailing. Nancy was busily entering information in his chart on the computer, keeping up a steady stream of nonsense talk at the same time.

“Eight pounds, five ounces and and 20.5 inches long. All of his other stats look very good. You guys did a good job with this one.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Lucy did all the hard work. My job was the fun part.”

“From here on out, the job is both fun and hard work.” She gestured for Wyatt to stand next to her while she deftly swaddled the baby. Wyatt tried to commit every step to memory, but she was so quick and efficient that he gave it up as a bad job.

“I'm gonna need a YouTube video or something to remember how to do that,” he muttered, marveling at how quickly the baby calmed down now that he was wrapped up snugly in a blanket.

“It gets easier with practice,” Nancy replied as she carefully transferred the baby from the bassinet into Wyatt's arms. “I'm going to leave you three to get acquainted, but I'll be back in a half hour or so to check in.”

Wyatt shifted the baby to the crook of his elbow as he settled down on the hospital bed, nudging Lucy awake. “Sleeping Beauty, a little someone wants to meet you.”

Lucy eagerly gathered up their son, cradling him high on her chest. “Oh, Wyatt,” she sighed as tears streamed down her face, “look at him. He's so beautiful.”

Wyatt stroked a chubby cheek, prompting the baby to blink up owlishly in his parents' general direction. “He has your button nose, but I think he's got my chin. And look at those baby blues.”

“Brilliant blue, just like his daddy's.” Lucy shifted the cap up just enough to reveal a tuft of downy brown hair. “He's gonna be a heartbreaker. We are in so much trouble, Wyatt.”

Wyatt grinned devilishly. “I think we can handle it.”

His devilish grin turned into a smug grin as he waited for Lucy to say something.

“Okay, go ahead, you can say it,” she sighed.

He leaned over for a kiss, prompting a squawk from the baby as he was squished between his parents. “Told you it was gonna be a boy.”

Pressing another kiss to his son's forehead, he whispered,

“Welcome to the world, Ethan Thomas Logan.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just some sweetness for your Friday afternoon. 
> 
> Only two more days until Hollywoodland!


	3. Better Late Than Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt and Lucy get a second chance at Prom. Sort of.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this was inspired by a post from shorthairdontcare22 on tumblr, hoping for a Prom episode in season 3. I can't do anything about a possible season 3, but it occurred to me that I had a pretty perfect setup to give Wyatt and Lucy a do-over on Prom. Hope you guys enjoy.

"Honey, you're going to wear a hole in the carpet if you keep pacing like that," Wyatt admonishes his wife gently.

Lucy halts mid-stride in front of the fireplace in the family room, throwing up her hands in exasperation. "Wyatt, Rufus, Jiya and the girls will be here in fifteen minutes, and Ethan's not ready yet! I just want everything to be perfect for them."

Wyatt laughs, busting out his trademark smirk. In his wife's opinion, nearly 20 years of marriage and three children hadn't dimmed the brilliance of his smile, and the crinkles around his eyes and the subtle graying at his temples only served to make him more handsome.

"Are you sure you're worried about everything being perfect for him, or for us?" he teases as he draws her into his embrace. "I'm sure he's fine," he whispers as he nuzzles her neck, "but do you want me to go upstairs and check on him anyway?"

Lucy visibly relaxes at the offer, burying her face in his shoulder to hide her anxiety. "Would you, please? I'm sure he doesn't want his mother hovering over him all night."

"Give me five minutes," he replies, kissing her cheek before he runs up the stairs two at a time, headed toward their oldest son's room at the end of the hall. Peeking around the door frame, he spies seventeen-year-old Ethan sitting nervously at the foot of his bed, wringing a blue-and-white polka-dot bow tie in his hands, the matching pocket square already tucked into his tuxedo jacket.

Wyatt softly knocks on the door to alert his son to his presence. "Everything okay, buddy? Your mom's a little worried about you."

"I can't get this right, Dad," he whines, gesturing to the garment in his hands. "Every time I try to tie it, it looks lopsided."

Wyatt motions for Ethan to stand in front of his full-length mirror, and comes around to stand behind him. Still a couple of months away from his eighteenth birthday, Ethan stands a couple inches shorter than his father, but is otherwise a carbon copy of Wyatt at that age, with his sandy blond hair, bright blue eyes and slightly lanky frame. Wyatt guides Ethan through the process of tying a perfect bow, then undoes the knot and patiently walks him through the process again until he gets it right.

"For what it's worth, I didn't get good at this until after I met your mom," he says wistfully. "There was a point in time where I could tie probably fifty different types of ties. Bow ties were the easiest, though."

Ethan scoffs as he rolls his eyes, sensing that yet another long-winded story about his parents' time-traveling days is in the offing. "The way you two have been acting all day, you'd think this was your Prom, not mine."

Wyatt settles his hands on his son's shoulders, kissing the crown of his head and wrapping him in a bear hug as he smiles. "That might be because neither one of us went to our Proms, so you'll have to forgive us for being a little excited."

Ethan looks up in surprise. "You never got to go to Prom? Mom always talks about how nerdy she was in high school, but you never mentioned that."

"Let's just say I was disinvited, and leave it at that. Someday I might tell you the whole story. I think I hear Rufus' car pulling in the driveway, time to get this show on the road."

* * *

 

The next thirty minutes is a flurry of activity at Casa Logan. Rufus and Jiya's oldest daughter, Felicity ( _just friends_ , they both insisted to their parents) is Ethan's date for the evening, and the youngest Logans, 15-year-old J.J. and 13-year-old Emily Elizabeth, are having a sleepover at the Carlins' house with their younger daughter, Iris, while Wyatt and Lucy helped chaperone the dance. Corsage and boutonniere are exchanged, copious pictures taken by both sets of parents, younger siblings photobombing the proceedings, and Lucy still manages to get everyone out the door by 7:30.

The drop-off line is nearly a quarter-mile long by the time they pull up to the Palo Alto High campus just before 8PM. The student lounge has been dressed up for the buffet dinner that is part of the evening's festivities, and the dance itself kicks off in an hour in the auditorium. Wyatt pulls over behind Ethan's best friend's parents to let the kids out. As Felicity and Ethan scramble out the passenger side door, Lucy rolls down her window to say goodbyes. She's stopped before she gets that far by Wyatt's hand covering her mouth.

"Let them go, honey. They'll be fine. Ethan's probably going to be embarrassed enough by us chaperoning the dance as it is."

Lucy sighs in a huff, then kisses the palm of his hand where it covers her lips. "Since when did you become the voice of reason?"

Wyatt shrugs. "The wisdom of old age, I guess." Lucy punches him lightly in the arm, then leans over to leave a smacking kiss on his cheek.

"C'mon, handsome. Let's see what this fuss over Prom is all about."

* * *

 

They're directed to the teachers' lounge to check in with the chaperone committee, which is chaired by Ethan's college counselor, Dr. Jake Anderson. He waves enthusiastically when he spots them weaving through the throng of parents and meets them at the check-in table.

"Wyatt, Lucy, glad you made it," he greets, shaking Wyatt's hand and pulling Lucy in for a quick hug. The Logans and Andersons are longtime friends, as Jake had been part of Lucy's first group of grad students upon her return to Stanford, and is married to Wyatt's former assistant at Mason Industries. He gestures vaguely at the multiple tables at the back of the room, laden down with potluck dishes and drinks, while he checks a spreadsheet on his tablet. "Since you guys were here this morning to help decorate, you're off the hook for the actual dance itself. We'll need you back here at 10:30 to start setting up check in for the buses to the lock-in. We'll go over the specifics then. As you can see, the Seniors' parents brought a ton of food, so help yourself. I'll see you in a couple of hours."

Wyatt and Lucy spend the next hour grazing on food and catching up with parents of Ethan's classmates. As soon as Wyatt notices Lucy's leg starting to twitch nervously under the table and her focus starting to wane, he makes their excuses and tugs her out into the hall.

"You want to check on Ethan, don't you?"

She smiles guiltily. "I just want to make sure he's having a good time. Is that such a bad thing?"

Wyatt steadily backs her up until she is pinned between his body and the wall, nibbling his way along the neckline of her dress across her shoulder and up her neck to the extremely sensitive spot just behind her ear. "We promised we wouldn't be those parents, babydoll," he murmurs against her skin.

Lucy gasps at the contact, gripping Wyatt's upper arms firmly as she tries to gather her wits about her. "You made that promise, not me. And stop trying to distract me."

Wyatt gathers the folds of her poufy blue-and-silver striped skirt at her hips, adjusting their positions so she is even more firmly pressed against the wall. "I was made to believe that making out in a darkened hallway was an important part of the Prom experience. Plus, I don't hear you complaining exactly?"

"Definitely not complaining," she replies breathily, raking her fingers through his hair, "but getting caught is probably not ideal."

Wyatt straightens to his full height, resigned in defeat. "Fair enough. But we have to be stealthy and discreet, because I did promise our son we wouldn't be  **those**  parents."

Lucy grins warmly. "I learned stealth and discretion from the very best. Lead the way."

* * *

 

They enter the auditorium via a side door that spits them out conveniently close to the refreshments table. Wyatt grimaces at the sight of the huge silver punch bowl filled with a garish pink concoction. "Well, I think we can safely say that the punch hasn't been spiked, because it looks like no one's drank any of it."

Lucy wrinkles her nose in disgust. "I'd rather not taste test it, personally." She scans the crowd anxiously as the latest song winds down, giving the DJ the opportunity to catch the students' attention to announce that the dance has one hour left before everyone would be bused to the lock-in afterparty. "Do you see Ethan and Felicity?"

Wyatt points to the opposite corner of the room. "Over there, by the balloon arch."

Lucy relaxes into his arms as she watches her son having a good time with his friends. The combination of Lucy's intelligence and fierce loyalty, and Wyatt's good-natured charm and charisma had earned Ethan a tight-knit group of close friends, all of whom were in attendance.

The DJ cues up a slow song, and Wyatt spins Lucy around in his arms.

"May I have this dance, ma'am?"

Lucy's answering smile could have lit up the entire auditorium as she flings her arms around his neck, swaying in time to the beat.

Across the room, Ethan and Felicity catch sight of the Logans dancing, and smile.

* * *

 

The remainder of the evening passes by in a blur for Lucy and Wyatt, as they had to help check nearly 300 kids in for the lock-in. It is nearly 1AM before they are ready to head home. As Wyatt starts the car, Lucy reaches for his hand, kissing his knuckles tenderly.

"Do you know what I just realized?" she asks flirtatiously.

"What's that, babydoll?" he responds absentmindedly as he pulls out of the campus parking lot.

Lucy smirks mischievously. "We have the entire house to ourselves for the next 18 hours. Rufus and Jiya are picking the kids up in the morning, and they're not coming home until dinner. I think that calls for a celebration."

As they pull up to a stop sign, Wyatt leans over to kiss his wife.

"As you wish, ma'am."

 


	4. Two Generations of BFFs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chapter four: Two generations of Logans and Carlins spend a Saturday afternoon together. Fluff-o-rama ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no idea where this came from. It was originally inspired by a brief moment in the Season 1 Gag Reel, and it was supposed to be funny, but it took a HARD left turn into fluffy and sappy instead. I guess this is my way of working out all the angst we're actually seeing on-screen.

“What did Felicity do to land herself in baby jail, Rufus?” Wyatt asked jokingly as he and Ethan appeared in the doorway of the Carlins' family room/playroom. Hearing his best friend's name, two-year-old Ethan started squirming insistently in Wyatt's arms.

“Lissie! Lissie! Down, Daddy! I play Lissie!” As soon as he was safely on the floor, Ethan toddled over to the pack&play where Felicity Carlin had pulled herself upright, standing on her tiptoes and trying to peer over the side.

Rufus emerged from the closet where he was hanging up coats for the guests at Lucy and Jiya's joint baby shower.

“This little social butterfly,” he responded as he reached over and plucked his 18-month-old daughter from her confinement, “figured out that Mommy was having a party to which she wasn't invited, and decided to be a pest all morning while Jiya was getting the house ready, and forgoing her morning nap. Hence, her time-out in baby jail. Maybe she'll be better behaved now that her best buddy 'E' is here,” he said hopefully, blowing a raspberry on her cheek as he set her down on the blanket next to Ethan. The two toddlers happily started playing pat-a-cake, babbling away in a language that only vaguely resembled English. 

Rufus collapsed into the overstuffed leather sofa, sighing heavily. “I don't know how we're going to do this, Wyatt. I can barely keep up with just Felicity; my mom says she redefines the word 'precocious'. And we're going have another one in six weeks? My heart can't take it.”

“Okay, Drama Queen,” Wyatt chuckled as he gave his friend a reassuring slap on the shoulder, “you and Jiya are two of the smartest people I know. I think you'll do just fine.”

Rufus regarded Wyatt skeptically. “You're not in the slightest bit nervous about having another one?”

Wyatt settled into the armchair opposite Rufus, checking on the kids out of the corner of one eye. They had abandoned pat-a-cake in favor of a large bucket of Duplo blocks.

“I was nervous before Ethan was born, sure. Let's face it, Lucy and I did not exactly hit the lottery in terms of parental role models. We don't always get it right, but he's healthy and happy, so I figure we're doing okay. I love my little guy more than I ever thought possible, Rufus, and I can't wait to meet our new little one.”

“Wyatt Logan, Zen Dad. Who'da thunk it?"

“You, my friend, need a little more Zen in your life, I think. But failing that, how about a drink?”

“There's a six-pack of Angry Orchard in the fridge in the garage.” At Wyatt's puzzled look, Rufus explained, “Jiya would prefer that I not have anything stronger than cider while she's pregnant. It practically took an act of Congress to get her to let my mom bring over some bottles of wine for the non-preggos today. Of course, Mom brought rose and I can't drink that swill,” he grimaced.

Wyatt returned ten minutes later, ice-cold bottles of cider in each hand. As he handed over one bottle to Rufus, who is now engrossed in a college football game on the TV, a glimpse of something familiar catches his eye from the corner of the room where the kids are now rooting through what appears to be a bin of dress-up clothes. Felicity's head is almost completely covered by a 30's-style pink cloche hat, and Ethan has wrapped himself up in a brown faux-fur stole, rubbing the soft material against his cheeks.

“Rufus, are those from our Halloween costumes from the year we went to the Mason Industries party in drag?”

Rufus nearly does a spit-take when he sees the toddlers looking expectantly at their fathers, grinning from ear-to-ear. “Yes, those would be they. Jiya decided after we wore them that they could not be returned to the costume room. She squirreled away some of her favorite pieces we wore in an off-site storage locker. The ones that came back in one piece, at least. She thought they might come in handy someday.”

“We have to get pictures of this, or our wives will never believe us,” Wyatt replies as he digs his phone out of his back pocket. “Ethan, Felicity, say cheese for me!” He manages to grab a handful of snaps before Felicity decides she's done posing and makes a beeline for Rufus. Before she can make it halfway across the room, she trips on some stray Duplos and face-plants into the carpet, howling at the top of her lungs. Ethan plops down next to her, patting her back and trying to pull her into a side-hug.

“It okay, Lissie. I here. Don't cry.”

Rufus scoops Felicity up off the floor, plucking the hat off her head and tossing it back into the storage bin. “Okay, baby girl, someone is very overdue for a nap. Can you wave bye-bye to Ethan?” Felicity's cries have faded to a dull whimper as she waves tiredly over his shoulder at Wyatt and Ethan, who are putting away the blocks and the dress-up pieces.

Cleanup complete, Ethan crawls into Wyatt's lap. “What about you, Bud? How about a nap?” 

Ethan shakes his head vehemently. “No nap, Daddy. I not tired. Story pwease?”

Though Ethan's drooping eyes belie his claim of not being tired. Wyatt knows better than to argue the point. He'll probably fall asleep in the car on the drive home anyway.

Settling back in the armchair, Wyatt digs Ethan's teddy bear, Radar, out of the diaper bag along with a small stack of books. “Which book, little man?”

Ethan points to a well-worn favorite. “Moose Muffin, Daddy.”

Wyatt opens the picture book to the first page.

“ _If you give a moose a muffin, he'll want some jam to go with it …..”_

 

Half an hour later, the party is finally breaking up, and Jiya and Lucy realize that the rest of the house is eerily quiet. They split up to investigate, discovering their respective husbands and children zonked out: Rufus on the sofa in the nursery, with Felicity napping peacefully in her crib; Wyatt and Ethan cuddled up in the playroom.

Life is pretty good.

 

 


	5. I'll Be Home for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wyatt celebrates his best Christmas ever, thanks to his newfound family.

 

 ** _Sunday, December 23, 2018, 1930 hours_ **  

 

 _“I'll be home for Christmas;_  

 _You can count on me._  

 _Please have snow, and mistletoe,_  

 _and presents on the tree …”_  

 

Wyatt grimaced slightly as the dulcet tones of Bing Crosby wafted through Terminal 2 at San Diego International Airport. Until recently, Wyatt hated the Christmas season. Negative associations from childhood, later coupled with intense bouts of grief after Jessica's death, meant that when he was Stateside, he often worked straight through the winter holidays in order to free up teammates who were desperate for a little extra free time with their families. 

 

This year, however, the shoe was on the other foot. Wyatt had spent the past ten days at Pendleton, officially beginning the transition to his new role as head of the DoD's Counter-Intelligence group at Mason Industries. It meant a flurry of personnel interviews and hiring decisions, in addition to a current polygraph test and Subject Interview for his upgraded SCI classification. All he wanted right now was to get home to Lucy as soon as possible. The fact that she wasn't expecting him until the next morning ratcheted up his eagerness.  

 

His newly hired Executive Assistant, Navy Lieutenant Jennie Anderson, had proven to be a model of efficiency, shepherding personnel paperwork and requisition forms through the complex DoD chain of command so Wyatt could leave a day early, and the rest of the team would be ready to go on their first official day, Wednesday the 2nd.  She'd even managed to get him a seat on the last flight out of San Diego, leaving in a little over two hours.  

 

The airport was busy, but not overly so, and Wyatt breezed through security thanks to his military credentials. Realizing that he had plenty of time to kill and still needed to eat dinner, he sidled up to the bar at the Bankers Hill outpost in the center of the concourse, ordering a Stone IPA and a plate of their famous Street Tacos. While waiting on his food, he watched the Sunday Night Football postgame show - making a mental note to check on his fantasy football team in the morning; he was competing against a former Delta Force squadmate in their league championship - and started absentmindedly twisting his wedding ring, a nervous habit he'd recently developed.   

 

The gentleman sitting next to him chuckled as he reached over and stilled Wyatt's hand.  “Son, you keep that up and you're liable to send that band flying into someone's dinner plate. I think you'd have a devil of a time explaining to your wife how you lost your wedding ring at an airport bar. “ 

 

Wyatt grinned sheepishly in response. “Yes, sir, I suppose I would. My wife's pretty understanding, though.” 

 

The man nodded knowingly, mirth sparkling in his eyes as he nursed his beer. “You still a newlywed?” 

 

“Almost seven months.  We got married in Napa over Memorial Day. This is the first time we've been apart for more than a handful of days since the wedding.” 

 

“You military?” 

 

“Yes, sir.  Officially stationed at Pendleton, but I've been on special assignment in San Francisco for the last two years. That's how Lucy and I met. I'm transitioning to a permanent post there after the first of the year. That's why I've been gone for almost two weeks; had to tie up loose ends here and get my new team up and running.” Wyatt had no idea what compelled him to keep talking to this total stranger; he just knew it felt nice to have someone to keep company with in this otherwise lonely airport bar.  

 

“I was a Navy man, myself.  My Annie and I met when I was at Pearl Harbor. Our son is posted at Hickam, and since he'll be Stateside for a while, we decided to surprise the grandkids by coming to visit for the holidays. Annie's already there; we're staying the night tonight at the same resort where we spent our wedding night.” The man smiled wistfully as he downed the last of his beer, waving to the bartender.  “Don't suppose you and your Lucy have little ones yet, do you?” 

  

Wyatt blushed at the rather personal question. “No sir, not yet.  Hoping for sometime next year.” 

 

The man eyed Wyatt shrewdly. “Next year, indeed.” At the bartender's nod, he signaled for his check.  “Put this young man's order on my tab while you're at it, please.” He slipped his credit card into the folio, waving off Wyatt's sputtered protests. “Consider it a Christmas gift from me to you. Get back to your Lucy safely, and have a wonderful holiday.” 

 

Wyatt stuck out his hand for the man to shake. “Thank you, sir. Merry Christmas.” 

 

* * *

 

 **_C_** ** _hristmas Eve_** ** _, 0100 hours_ **  

 

Wyatt was dead tired as he pulled into the garage of their home just outside Palo Alto. He'd been up since 0630 the previous morning, working like a demon to get everything wrapped up in San Diego, and all he wanted was the comfort of his King-sized bed and the woman who would undoubtedly be cuddling his pillow while hogging half the blankets. 

 

 The cheery Christmas tree in the far corner of the living room sported a much larger pile of colorfully wrapped presents underneath than it had when he'd left 10 days prior, including a bunch of gifts for Lucy he'd had delivered while he was gone.  Sadie, their Scottish Fold, snoozed contentedly on the couch, blissfully unaware of her human's return.  

 

As predicted, he found Lucy sound asleep in their bed, partially tangled up in the fluffy green duvet, clutching his pillow to her middle for dear life.  Wyatt tossed his duffel in the corner of the room, immediately stripping down to his boxers as he climbed into bed, carefully extricating his pillow from Lucy's death grip while snuggling up behind her.  

 

“Wyatt?” Lucy asked sleepily.  

 

He nuzzled the crook where her neck met her shoulder.  “Were you expecting someone else?”  

 

Lucy flipped over, tucking her head under his chin as she settled into a more comfortable position. “Wasn't expecting you at all until tomorrow afternoon. This bed was awful lonely without you.“ 

 

“No more extended trips if I can help it,” Wyatt murmured as he nuzzled the crown of her head.  

 

“Mmmm, I like the sound of that,” she mumbled as she subsided back to sleep. 

 

 

 **_0930 Hours_ **  

 

Wyatt slowly eased into consciousness thanks to the sensation of Lucy's nails gently skimming up and down his arm and shoulder, occasionally detouring to trace the dimples in his cheeks or comb through his hair.  

 

“Good morning,” she whispered sweetly. 

 

Wyatt flipped her onto her back, peppering kisses along her collarbone, tracing her shoulders back and forth.  “Good morning.  It's Christmas Eve.” 

 

“So it is.  Remember where we were this time last year?” she asked as she gently massaged the back of his neck.   

 

Wyatt stilled, stifling a laugh as he nipped at her shoulder.  “I am never going to live that down, am I?” 

 

Lucy smiled at the memory. “No. I think almost losing my engagement ring while trying to build a snowman outside our cabin at Lake Tahoe is something I'm not likely to forget any time soon.” 

 

Wyatt reached up to grasp her left hand, tracing his thumb over her engagement ring and wedding band.  “The key word there is  _almost,_  babydoll.” Levering himself up on one elbow, he leaned in to pin her to the bed, devouring her mouth with kisses while his hands roamed up her abdomen and rib cage underneath her pajama top. “And as I recall, after you said yes, we spent the rest of the day in bed. Can we do that again today?” 

 

Lucy pretended to think about it for about a half-second before relenting to Wyatt's ministrations. “I think we can stay where we are a little longer.” 

 

 **_1300 hours_ **  

 

After Wyatt stepped out of the bathroom, freshly showered, he spotted a squishy wrapped package on their bed out of the corner of his eye.  As he pulled on a pair of jeans and a blue henley, Lucy appeared from the laundry room with a basket of freshly folded clothes.  

 

“Honey, does this package need to go under the tree, or what?”   

 

“No, that's actually a gift for you, from Rufus. You're supposed to open it before Rufus and Jiya get here.” 

 

Wyatt eyed the package warily. “Please don't tell me it's an ugly Christmas sweater.” 

 

“Okay, I won't tell you it's an ugly Christmas sweater,” she quipped.  

 

Wyatt sat on the edge of the bed, fingering the taped edges of the package.  Typical Rufus, he'd wrapped it in Star Wars-themed Christmas paper. “Do I have to wear it?” he whined. 

 

“We skipped out on Connor's Christmas party for the Mason Industries team last year because we were in Tahoe. You saw the pictures, you know everyone goes along with it. Besides, Rufus had a lot of fun picking this out, and I went shopping with him, so I'm reasonably confident that you won't hate it.”  

 

Wyatt side-eyed her warily, but unwrapped the package anyway.  Lifting the sweater up so he could see the design better, he had to admit Lucy was right – he didn't hate it.  He actually chuckled as he recognized the pattern. 

 

“Snowflakes and Stormtroopers?”  

 

Lucy shrugged nonchalantly. “It was the least-Christmassy Christmas sweater we could find, you and Rufus both love Star Wars, and frankly, black is your color. Seemed like a win-win to me.” She kissed his cheek before picking up the basket and putting away the laundry. 

 

 "Where's your Christmas sweater?" 

 

"I'll get dressed for the party later, since Jiya and I still have to decorate all the cookies we baked yesterday." 

 

Wyatt snuck up behind her, burying his nose in her hair while gently tickling her sides. "You and Jiya made cookies yesterday and managed not to burn down the house? I'm impressed," he teased.  

 

"I'll have you know that we used pre-made cookie dough and Rufus' mom supervised, thank you very much," she huffed. "We taste-tested one cookie of each batch and there will be no food poisoning this year." 

 

Wyatt laughed heartily as he leaned over to nibble behind her ear. "I'll believe that when I see it." 

 

 **_1530 hours_ **  

 

Wyatt had just finished getting a fire crackling merrily in the living room when the doorbell rang, followed by Rufus and Jiya letting themselves into the house. Rufus' hands were occupied with wrapped gifts and their Christmas movie DVD selections, while Jiya made a beeline straight for the kitchen, her arms laden down with cookie icing in various colors and small jars of sprinkles and candies.  

 

Wyatt and Rufus sized up each other's attire.   

 

"How come you got the R2D2 sweater, and mine's the one with the Stormtroopers?" 

 

"The only other option was one with BB-8 on it, and we both look terrible in orange, man," Rufus huffed.  "Besides, you kinda sound like the guy who voices Anakin Skywalker on  _The Clone Wars_ , so of course you're getting the one with the Stormtroopers.  Next year, you can pick out the sweaters." 

 

"Next year, I'm going to buy the ugliest Lord of the Rings-themed sweater I can find, and make you wear it." 

 

Rufus recoiled in horror. "That's cold, man." Pausing for a second to consider the proposition, his grimace shifted to a sly smile. "Jiya might dig it, though." 

 

"All right, enough of that.  What movies did you bring?" 

 

Rufus fanned out the handful of DVDs he'd brought from their collection.  " _Christmas Vacation_ ,  _Scrooged_ , and of course,  _Die Hard_." 

 

" _DIE HARD_  IS NOT A CHRISTMAS MOVIE!" Jiya and Lucy shouted in unison from the kitchen, causing all four adults to burst into laughter.  

 

"C'mon, let's grab some beers before the ladies make a mess out of the kitchen." 

 

"I heard that, Wyatt Logan!"  

 

Wyatt managed to swipe a star-shaped sugar cookie off the counter before getting his hand slapped by Lucy.  Poking his head in their fridge, he grabbed a bottle of Rufus' favorite IPA.  "Lucy, do we not have any Egg Nog?" 

 

Lucy's grimace, which looked a little like a gag, went unnoticed by everyone except Jiya. "No, I didn't buy any Egg Nog this year.  I think I read somewhere that there was a listeria outbreak not too long ago, and I didn't want to risk it." 

 

Jiya caught Rufus about to contradict Lucy and frantically gestured to him to keep quiet.   _We'll talk about it_ _later_ , she mouthed to him silently.  

 

Wyatt frowned, grabbing another beer for himself.  "Okay, Rufus and I will enjoy our not-Christmas movie while we stay out of your hair for cookie decorating. What time do we have to be at Mason's?" 

 

"Around 7:30-ish. It's basically an Open House, so there's no set time. We're opening gifts here before we go, though." 

 

 **_1800 Hours_ **  

 

As the credits started rolling on  _Die Hard_ , Jiya and Lucy emerged from the kitchen.  Lucy excused herself to head upstairs to freshen up and change, while Jiya cuddled with Rufus in front of the fire, occasionally stealing sips of his beer.   

 

"How did the trip to Pendleton go, Wyatt?"  Rufus asked. 

 

"It was a busy ten days, but I got my full team put together, Mason is working with the personnel office to get everyone settled in corporate housing for the first few weeks, and we'll be ready to go after the first of the year." 

 

"Are you going to miss being on active duty?" Jiya asked. 

 

Wyatt smiled and shook his head. "Not one bit. I never really pictured myself with a desk job, but almost two years of near-constant time travel was more than enough for me.  This new role will be a good fit, and I'll get to see you guys every day, though I may regret that part. Because it came with a commission, it's a four-year commitment, at minimum, so Lucy can go for tenure if she wants. We're in this for the long haul."  

 

Lucy reappeared, having detoured to the kitchen to gather another round of drinks – beers for the guys, cider for Jiya and a sparkling water for herself. After passing out the beverages, she ducked under the tree to retrieve gifts for Rufus and Jiya, and the foursome settled on the floor, ready to open presents.  

 

"Before we open gifts, a toast," Lucy raised her glass, "to friends who have become family. Merry Christmas." 

 

They clinked bottles and glasses together, the two couples exchanging quick kisses. 

 

"Last year, the oldest went first, so I guess this time it's youngest first," Wyatt proposed, handing over his gift for Jiya. "I'll have you know I picked this out all by myself," he said proudly. 

 

Jiya shredded the colorful wrapping paper, letting out a full-throated laugh when she saw the package. "A Star Wars crochet kit?! Wyatt, I love it, thank you!" Turning so Rufus could see it, she pointed to the characters on the box. "Look, I could make a little stuffed Yoda for your desk!" 

 

Rufus grinned broadly. "I have no doubt that you will make the most adorable little stuffed Yoda possible. You could probably even help Denise with her knitting while you're at it." He feigned pain when Jiya elbowed him in the gut before reaching over to toss Wyatt's gift in his lap. "Merry Christmas, Wyatt. I hope you don't already have this one." 

 

Wyatt shredded the wrapping paper like five-year-old. "A '53 Chevy Bel-Air model kit?  This is perfect! My Grandpa Sherwin had one just like it." 

 

"It didn't come with paint, but I wasn't sure which colors you'd want to use, so I guess you can buy whatever you want, and make it look just like your grandpa's car." 

 

Wyatt was lost in thought, making mental notes of the model kit supplies he had in the den, and what he'd need to buy, when Rufus let out an ear-splitting screech upon opening his gift from Lucy.  

 

"A BOOTLEG DVD OF THE  _STAR WARS_  CHRISTMAS SPECIAL?!" he shouted. 

 

"Could you be a little louder, sweetie? I think the neighbors down the street didn't hear you," Jiya admonished.  

 

Rufus stared at the DVD case, dumbfounded that his friend had been able to snag such a rare collector's item. "Where did you find this, Lucy?" 

 

Lucy shrugged. "Same place I find all the gifts I buy for you: eBay. This present does come with one stipulation, though: we will watch this with you once, and ONLY once. No exceptions." 

 

Rufus' grin stretched from ear to ear. "Deal." 

 

Jiya scooted Lucy's gift over to her. "I hope you like this, Lucy. No offense, but you're hard to shop for." 

 

"No offense taken," she replied as she unwrapped a package of fancy colored pencils. The second package revealed the context for the first – a set of coloring books, one featuring her favorite historical figures, and one featuring her favorite Disney characters. She traced the cover picture of her favorite Disney princess, Ariel, lovingly. "It's perfect, Jiya, thank you." 

 

 **_1930 hours_ **  

 

Wyatt whistled softly as he pulled into an open spot about a block and a half from Connor Mason's house in Half Moon Bay. The mid-century modern butted up against a cliff overlooking the ocean. "Does Mason's house remind you a little of Tony Stark's house in  _Iron Man_?" he asked Rufus.  

 

Rufus chuckled. "Yeah, I forgot that you guys haven't been here. It does look a little like Stark's house, but last I checked, he doesn't have a shop in the basement where he builds superhero armor. Just time machines." 

 

They were greeted at the door by Connor's fiancee Christine Collins, a beautiful Intellectual Property attorney who now serves as Mason Industries' General Counsel. She broke into a huge grin as Lucy approached, noticing that they were wearing the same sweater, a cream knit with a sequined panel across the chest. Whereas Lucy's sweater read "Nice" in red sequins, Christine's read "Naughty" in green. 

 

"Oh Lucy, you are NOT allowed to leave before the two of us get a picture together! Connor is going to love this."  She relieved Lucy and Jiya of their cookie trays and gestured vaguely down the hall. "I'm going to put these in the breakfast room with the rest of the desserts. Drinks are in coolers on the porch next to the kitchen, and there's plenty of chili, chips and dips and other hors d'oeuvres in the dining room. Rufus and Jiya know where everything is; let me know if you want a tour after you've had something to eat."  

 

Almost an hour and a half later, Christine caught up with Lucy in the conservatory, where she was seated behind Connor's behemoth Steinway grand piano, tentatively plinking out a tune.  

 

"Do you play?" she asked quietly.  

 

Lucy looked up in surprise and hastily tried to lower the keyboard cover, almost dropping it on her fingers. "Oh, no. Not well, at least. I sing, or at least I used to." 

 

Christine gently nudged her over on the piano bench, fingers settling confidently on the keyboard. "Of the two of us, Connor is the music aficionado, but he doesn't play either, so I'm the only one who gets any use out of this beauty."  

 

Lucy immediately recognized the melody Christine was softly playing, and after closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, decided to try channeling her inner Judy Garland.  

 

 _Have yourself a merry little_ _Christma_ _s, let your heart be light._  

 _From now on, our troubles will be out of sight._  

 

 _Have yourself a merry little Christmas, make the yuletide gay._  

 _From now on, our troubles will be miles away._  

 

 _Here we are, as in olden days, happy golden days of yore._  

 _Faithful friends who are dear to us, gather near to us once more._  

 

Lucy opened her eyes and was stunned to realize that almost everyone at the party had gathered in the room, listening to her sing. She saw Rufus, Jiya and Wyatt huddled together in the corner, Jiya excitedly recording the performance on her phone.  Wyatt smiled at her reassuringly, mouthing  _You're a_ _mazing_ _. You can do this._  

 

 _Through the years, we all will be together, if the fates allow._  

 _Until then, we'll have to muddle through somehow._  

 _So_ _have yourself_ _a merry little Christmas now._  

 

After Christine's little flourish on the piano, the room erupted in applause, and Lucy found herself leading a singalong of Christmas carols for the next half-hour. Following a particularly raucous rendition of "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree," she tried to hide a huge yawn, failing miserably. Wyatt made a big show of checking his watch, but it was actually Connor Mason who intervened, clapping once to gain everyone's attention. 

 

"Everyone, first of all, I want to thank all of you for taking time out of your busy holiday schedules to be here tonight. Mason Industries would not be nearly as successful as it is without all of you, and I hope you'll forgive me for being a little sentimental when I say that you have become like extended family to me. A toast, to another amazing year, and here's to many more." After a chorus of clinking bottles and glasses, and murmured "hear, hears," he continued. "I know it's getting late in the evening, and many of you have little ones who are anxiously awaiting the arrival of a certain jolly old elf, but I'm wondering if we could prevail upon my love, Christine, and Lucy for one more song?"  

 

The two women exchanged a glance and shrugged.  "One more," they agreed. 

 

_On the first day of Christmas, my true love gave to me, a partridge in a pear tree …_

 

* * *

 

Wyatt pulled back up to the house forty-five minutes later, noticing that all three of his passengers were in various stages of sleep.  He turned to nudge Rufus, who was sitting behind Lucy.   

 

"Rufus," he said quietly, "we're back at the house.  Do you and Jiya want to stay tonight? We have plenty of cinnamon rolls, and Denise dropped off some sort of casserole for breakfast, so there will be plenty of food." 

 

"Strata," Lucy mumbled sleepily.  "It's Michelle's Strata recipe. She makes it every year." 

 

Rufus stretched while gently prodding Jiya awake. "Thanks for the offer, guys, but we need to get home.  We have to be up early so we can Skype with Jiya's mom tomorrow. We'll see you at Denise and Michelle's for dinner though, right?" 

 

"We'll be there," Wyatt replied as he scooped Lucy into his arms. "See you tomorrow!" He called to their retreating forms as they piled into the car. 

 

Wyatt settled Lucy gently on the bed before tickling her awake.  Her half-hearted swats at his hands made him to chuckle.  "You have one present you're supposed to open on Christmas Eve, remember? Or do you just want to leave it until tomorrow?" he asked as he waved a box in front of her face. 

 

Lucy's eyes bugged out at the sight of the box.  "Wyatt, you didn't!" 

 

"Of course I did. This was your family's tradition, I couldn't ignore that." 

 

Lucy ripped open the box excitedly and squealed when she saw the contents: a pair of men's style two-piece pajamas in red with black piping, and a matching pair of black suede slippers.  She rubbed the soft, stretchy modal fabric against her cheek happily.  "Oh, Wyatt, I can't believe you remembered.  I love it," she said weepily. 

 

"I even got new pajamas for myself, so how about we get changed and give the big guy time to stop by?" he joked.  

 

"Deal," she replied, kissing his nose.  

 

* * *

 

 

 **_Christmas_** ** _night_** ** _,_** ** _20_** ** _00_ ****_hours_ **  

"Babydoll," Wyatt whispered to Lucy as he reached across to the passenger seat of their SUV to gently stroke her cheek, "wake up, we're home." 

 

Lucy yawned, stretched and blinked blearily at her husband. "Did I fall asleep again?" she asked tiredly. 

 

"Yup. Second night in a row, and you hardly ate  **anything**  at dinner. Not even Denise's mom's shrimp curry, and you LOVE her shrimp curry. Are you sure everything's okay?" 

 

Lucy cupped Wyatt's hand in her own, shifting to kiss his palm tenderly. "Everything is fine, I promise," she replied as she leaned across the console to kiss his cheek before climbing out of the car.  

 

Wyatt followed her as she made a beeline straight to the kitchen, plopping a pod of Peppermint Ginger tea in their Keurig machine. Now he  **knew**  something was up; Lucy never drank tea this late in the evening. He was just about to press the issue when Lucy spun around, grabbing the lapels of his jacket to pull him in closer for more kisses.   

 

"Every" -  _kiss_  - "Thing" - _kiss_  - "Is" -  _kiss_  - "Fine." Her last kiss was slightly more emphatic than the ones before. "Go throw some logs on the fire so we can watch  _It's a Wonderful Life_."  

 

Wyatt had the fire popping and crackling by the time Lucy's tea was ready, and she grabbed a fresh box of gingersnaps to snack on.  She almost – _almost_ – started giggling uncontrollably upon seeing him seated on the couch, an expectant look on his face.  

 

"Now are you going to tell me what's going on?" he asked with a mixture of exasperation and genuine concern in his voice. 

 

"All will be explained when you open your last gift," Lucy replied as she gestured to the wrapped box sitting in front of Wyatt on the coffee table. She settled on the couch, her mug and cookies in her lap, chewing on her bottom lip nervously. 

 

Wyatt eyed the box curiously. It was lightweight and didn't make noise as he turned it over, so he assumed it wasn't anything breakable. "This is for me?" he asked, genuinely puzzled. "You've already spoiled me rotten this year, babydoll. What else could you have for me?" 

 

 "Technically, it's not for either of us. Could you just open it please, and get it over with?" 

 

Wyatt carefully peeled off the gift wrap, setting it on the coffee table. After digging through multiple wads of tissue paper, he pulled out a card with a message written in Lucy's loopy handwriting: 

 

 _Sometimes, it's the smallest things_  

 _T_ _hat take up the biggest spaces in our hearts._  

 

Sitting at the bottom of the box was a pair of baby booties, knitted to resemble a pair of black Converse Chuck Taylor All-Star sneakers. Wyatt's gaze swung back and forth between the booties and the card several times before Lucy finally took pity on him and flipped the card over in his hand so he could read the back. 

 

 _Baby Logan_  

 _Arriving August, 2019_  

 

She knew the instant the information sunk in, by the tears that started streaming down his face. 

 

"We're really having a baby?" At her nod, he tugged her into his lap and kissed every inch of exposed skin he could reach. "I love you so much," he mumbled over and over in between kisses. Eventually, he finally came back up for air, full of questions.  "How long have you known?" He asked as he rubbed her cheeks gently, drying her own tears with his thumbs. 

 

"I started getting suspicious right before you left for Pendleton, but I didn't say anything because I didn't want to jinx it in case I was wrong. Plus, you had so much going on while you were away, I didn't want you to be distracted.  I got in to see Dr. Gibson a week ago Friday, and she claimed she knew just by looking at me, but she did the blood test anyway.  We're guessing that I'm about eight weeks, give or take a couple of days." 

 

Wyatt cuddled her close and started absentmindedly stroking her belly as he did the math in his head. "The weekend we moved in here? Did we seriously get this right on the first try?"  

 

Lucy grinned like a Cheshire Cat at the memories of that very busy weekend.  "I have a follow-up appointment Friday morning, we'll probably know for sure then. You're going to come, right?" she asked anxiously. 

 

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Wyatt replied emphatically. "Will she do an ultrasound? Do we get to see our little guy?"  he asked excitedly. 

 

"Thanks to my _advanced maternal age_ " - she put those words in air quotes, disgustedly - "she wants to keep a close eye on this pregnancy until I'm past 13 weeks, and yes, she'll be doing an ultrasound. Do I need to remind you that this little one could very well be a girl?" 

 

"Nah," he replied confidently as he nuzzled behind her ear. "Definitely gonna be a boy."  

 

They snuggled quietly for a few minutes, until a realization struck Wyatt and he shifted her around so they were face-to-face. "You waited to tell me until after we got home on purpose, didn't you?" 

 

Lucy grinned and kissed his nose. "Of course I did.  You can't keep a secret to save your life when you're around Rufus, and I'm not ready for this to be public knowledge yet. Though I think Jiya already suspects, unfortunately." 

 

"Hopefully, I'll be too busy at work over the next few weeks to let anything slip, but we'll have to come up with a cover story for me going to your doctor's appointments." 

 

"We'll come up with something.  We could probably just let them assume you're coming home for quickies during the day, and not that we're already in the bun-in-the-oven phase," she replied mischievously.

 

Lucy rearranged them both so Wyatt was spooned behind her and cuddled up under her favorite fleece blanket while she cued up the movie on their entertainment system.  

 

As they engrossed themselves in Wyatt's true favorite Christmas movie, he realized that he'd never related more strongly to George Bailey than he did this year. His guardian angel was a flesh-and-blood, smart, sassy, courageous and beautiful historian who'd saved his life in more ways than one. 

 

_It's a Wonderful Life, indeed._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You guys, not gonna lie, I struggled with this chapter. I intended for it to be posted more than two weeks ago, but because I buried the lede (as we used to say in the journalism biz) I could not find the right ending to this chapter to save my life. A couple of days ago, inspiration struck ..... and then the cancellation news happened. I couldn't just let this moment go, though, and I think I finally got it right. I hope you all enjoy and keep fighting to #SaveTimeless. 
> 
> xo,  
> Alyson


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